


Until Tomorrow

by Cozy_The_Overlord



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avenger Loki (Marvel), Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Isolation, Post-Avengers (2012), Quarantine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:15:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23560672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cozy_The_Overlord/pseuds/Cozy_The_Overlord
Summary: Quarantine by itself is lonely enough. Quarantine amidst a rainstorm of biblical proportions is downright depressing. Lucky for you, a visitor arrives just in time to keep you company
Relationships: Loki (Marvel) & Reader, Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 79





	Until Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a lot of "firsts" for me. This is my first time writing fanfic, my first time writing second person, and my first time posting to Ao3. I'm really nervous about posting this... but here we go!

It was raining.

Although _raining_ didn’t seem to do the weather justice. You couldn’t remember the last time you had witnessed such a torrential downpour. The pattering of raindrops rushing down your slanted roof had been drowned out by the wooshing of the fast-moving river that a few hours ago had been your street. Between the dark storm clouds and fog so thick you could cut it with a knife, you couldn’t make out exactly how bad the road was, but the waves that crashed against your window every time a car came skidding past your house told you that you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Not that you currently had any great travel plans.

You sat on the couch at your front window, a book lying open and ignored in your lap, watching water droplets race down the glass as a shiver raced down your spine. Usually, you loved the rain. You had grown where storms were a treasured rarity, where you’d insist your mother buy you rainboots for your birthday only for her to give them away a year later when they became too small, balls of paper still stuffed into their toes. Usually, when it poured, you’d run into your driveway with your head back and arms out, belting out “Singin’ in the Rain” as you attempted dance moves that would make Gene Kelly role in his grave, just because you could.

But today, you didn’t feel like dancing. With everything going on right now, the rain seemed less like a cause for celebration and more like a sign of impending doom. It had been weeks since you left the sanctuary of your tiny suburban house. You were lucky, everything considered— your parents were safely quarantined in your childhood home on the other side of the country, from where they FaceTimed with you at least once a day.

Your job was secure. That was one of the wonderful things about working for Tony Stark: the day everyone was sent home, the head man himself sent out an email swearing to keep everyone on the payroll through the quarantine, regardless of how long it lasted. He had even set up a system for delivering groceries to his employees: you texted a number with your order, and a few hours later a red and gold drone dumped a box of overflowing plastic bags on your doorstep. That was something your mom couldn’t get over— _Iron Man_ bringing you _milk_!— and honestly the ridiculousness of it all made you want to giggle, too.

Sometimes, though, it was all too much. It had been _ages_ since you’d seen anybody, ages since you had heard another voice unfiltered by the garbled speaker of your cell phone. You had never considered yourself to be an overtly social person, but _damn_ did you wish you had somebody here to talk to. Your mother had been trying for years to convince you to adopt a pet, insisting that it wasn’t healthy for you to be living completely alone, but you had always brushed her off, saying that you were working so often that you were rarely at home and it would be cruel to the animal. Now, you promised yourself that as soon as this was over, you were heading to the Humane Society.

If this was ever over.

Outside, the rain kept pouring. The trickling water seemed to be whispering to you—sinister promises of something worse yet to come. You curled tighter upon yourself, pressing your cheek to your knees.

_Let this end. Please, just let this end._

A crash behind you startled you out of your thoughts. You shrieked, whipping around to see a figure standing in your living room, soaking bags sprawled about him, staining the carpet. He scowled.

“Bloody rainstorm. You can’t see a damn thing out there.” He shook his head and began wringing out his hair, muttering in a language you didn’t understand.

It was several moments before you could find your voice. Once you did, it slipped out cautiously. “Loki?”

“At your service, my lady.” He gave a grand bow, his words dripping with sarcasm.

You stared. You knew Loki, of course. You were familiar with all of the Avengers who lived in the tower—your office was located on one of the higher levels, and as a result it wasn’t uncommon to see celebrities like Dr. Banner or Captain Rodgers making their way across the floor to meet with one of your coworkers. Unlike the others, however, you had actually spoken with Loki.

The two of you had a little run in a few months ago, when you were refilling your coffee mug at the break room. You were already on edge because Dr. Foster was visiting, _Dr. Jane Foster_ , and word about the floor was that she would be stopping by with Thor to meet some of the higher-level workers at some point during the day. You felt silly for feeling so starstruck, but Dr. Foster’s work was on another level of world-shattering, and the thought that you might be shaking her hand by the end of the day had you all sorts of jittery.

Then the coffee pot exploded.

_Exploded_ wasn’t exactly the right word. It was more like an eruption— all at once the pitcher just vomited its contents across the counter, up to the ceiling, all over the floor, writing like an animal and spitting out more coffee than it _possibly_ could’ve been holding previously. With a scream, you threw the anthropomorphic pot to the floor, adding shattered glass to the absolute mess in the break room.

There wasn’t time to comprehend what just happened before he was there, pulling you out of the puddle of lukewarm coffee.

“Forgive me, that was not supposed to happen. Are you hurt?” Loki scanned your form with an anxious sort of urgency. There was a tinge of pink on his cheeks—if you hadn’t known better, you would’ve said he was blushing. “Are you hurt?” he asked again when you only gaped at him like a dead fish. “Burned? That was not meant—forgive me.”

“No,” you finally said. The coffee hadn’t been warm enough to do any damage. “Just… my clothes—”

He waved his hand, and the sticky moisture clinging to your front disappeared. You ran your hand over your shirt, now dry and stainless. _That’s useful_.

“Are you certain you are uninjured?” he asked. “I swear, that was not what I intended—”

“I’m fine.” Now that the shock had worn off, you found yourself stifling the urge to giggle. “What _were_ you trying to do?”

Loki looked embarrassed. “My brother has the tendency of laying claim to the refreshments of any floor he visits, without leaving anything for those working on said floors. I thought I’d teach him a lesson.” He cast a glance back at the mess behind him. “The charm was meant only to react to him. I suppose I made a mistake in casting it.” He turned back to you. “I am sorry.”

You smiled. “It’s alright. I guess I could use a bit of excitement in my life.”

He grinned. “Words to live by.”

After that, you had been friendly. You’d greet each other when you walked by one another, you’d make small talk in the elevator if you were riding together, he’d hold the door for you if he had the chance. Nothing serious, nothing even that personal really, just office-friendly.

Definitely not crashing-unannounced-into-your-living-room-during-a-rainstorm-in-the-middle-of-a-pandemic friendly.

“What—?” you sputtered, springing off the couch. “What are you doing here?”

Loki dramatically gestured to the bags on the floor. “It seems I have been relegated to the status of a delivery boy.”

Craning your neck, you recognized the label of your local grocery market. You frowned. “Did—did you bring me groceries?”

The Asgardian in your living room huffed irritably. “You had an order for today, did you not?”

You nodded slowly. Yes, you were waiting on an order today, and now that you were looking you could see that it was sprawled across the floor at Loki’s feet: a carton of orange juice, a tub of ice cream, a bag of potato chips… but what was Loki doing dropping off food for _you_?

He sighed. “Stark, in his infinite wisdom, failed to consider the effect of such the elements—” he gestured to the monsoon outside your window “—on his mechanical messengers. As I am the only individual he knows with means of instantaneous travel, I have been _encouraged_ to assist with deliveries. I am—what is the phrase?— _making the rounds_ , if you will. ”

“Oh.” You found yourself at a loss for words, likely looking every bit as dumbfounded as when you first met in the break room. You mentally slapped yourself. “Um… thank you. Here,” you moved to collect to foodstuff off the carpet, “I can, uh, start putting things away—”

With one swift motion, Loki scooped everything up. “Allow me. Just tell me where you want me to put it.” You glanced up at him cautiously. He raised his eyebrows.

“Uh, okay.”

He followed you into your kitchen, and you cringed as you realized how truly disgusting your sink was. It had been _ages_ since you had the motivation to do the dishes, and they had been piling up in your sink like the leaning tower of cheap ceramics for at least a week now. Loki didn’t say anything though. At your direction, he placed the bags on the counter and watched as you silently put the contents away.

Even amidst all the awkwardness, there was something soothing about his presence. For the first time in _weeks_ , there was a living, breathing person in your house, someone real to talk to and laugh with. So when Loki said that he had to finish his deliveries, the question that popped out of your mouth was birthed by pure desperation.

“Do you want something to drink before you go?” you asked. “Like, a glass of water? Or… I have coffee, if you don’t mind it being reheated.”

If Loki was surprised by your offer, he masked the emotion quickly with a smirk. “Do you really trust me with coffee?”

You giggled. “I don’t know. Can I?”

“You shouldn’t trust me with anything,” he said, slipping into one of the seats at your kitchen table. “But I think we can make an exception just this once.”

You sat and talked for nearly an hour, sipping your microwaved coffee as the rain pounded on the roof. Loki had plenty of quarantine stories from the Tower, stories that always seemed to end with Thor accidentally blowing something up.

“He is not used to staying in such a limited space for this long of a time period,” he said reflectively. “I think perhaps confinement is having a detrimental effect on his intellect. Stark has installed a ‘Days Without an Accident’ count at the kitchen table, and thus far my brother has managed to reset it every day.”

You snorted. “That sounds hilarious. I wish I was there to see that.”

“No, you don’t. Everyone is fed up with everyone else.” Loki stared into his mug absently. “They have been starting altercations over the minutest details. It’s quite chaotic.”

You frowned. “Aren’t you supposed to like chaos?”

“When it’s within my control. This is far beyond that.” He took another sip, emptying it. “You are lucky to live alone. I would gladly welcome the peace you have here.”

“I don’t know. There’s not much to do in here.” You held in a sigh. “It gets kind of depressing after a while.”

Loki cocked his head, brow furrowed. “You are lonely?”

Your cheeks heated with embarrassment. It was such a menial complaint to have, especially when so many others were suffering. “Kind of,” you muttered. “It’s not so bad, though.”

Loki continued pressing. “You have access to communication, yes?” he asked, leaning forward. “I thought all of you mortals were addicted to your cellular devices.”

“Yeah,” you replied slowly. “But it’s not the same thing as, you know, actually _talking_ to someone. Like, when they’re actually there.”

“I understand.” He reached out to set his mug on the table. Somewhere hidden under your smile, your heart sank. He’d be leaving soon.

Loki cleared his throat. “If you would like,” he said, “I could pay you a visit every so often, as we are doing now.”

_What?_

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you rushed to say, even though the thought of having a regular visitor sent your pulse thrumming.

“No, but I think I would appreciate the respite. Today has been quite lovely, if I may say so.” He smiled— a genuine smile, not a smirk or a grin—and you felt rather silly for the way your heart seemed to soar. “Of course,” he added quickly, “if you don’t wish for my company, I completely—”

“No!” The volume of your voice made you cringe. Jeez, he must think you haven’t spoken to anyone in months. “No, I—if you want to come over, then…” For a moment, you fumbled with your words, searching for an eloquent way to accept his offer. “I’d like that,” you finally said, giving up. “I’d like that a lot.”

He laughed. “In that case, I’ll stop by tomorrow.” When he stood, you stood with him, following him back to your living room where he had left the groceries you hadn’t claimed. “I do need to be going now, though,” he said, scooping up the remaining bags. “The last thing I need is Stark having a fit over my failure to deliver his employees’ groceries on time.” He nodded at you. “Thank you very much for the coffee.”

“No problem,” you said. “Thanks for—thanks.”

He chuckled. “Until tomorrow, my lady.”

“Until tomorrow.”

And just like that, he was gone. It was a noiseless disappearance: one moment he was there, the next, you were once again alone with the pouring rain. With a sigh, you made your way back to the couch, scooping up your book off the floor. Once again, however, you found your attention drifting to the water running down the window, the rushing waves of your street outside. Nothing had changed, and yet it seemed so much less frightening than it had an hour before. No, now, it was almost soothing. You had the sudden urge to run out on to your driveway and belt “Singin’ In the Rain.”

_I should’ve done that while Loki was here_ , you thought sleepily, pressing your cheek to the cushion. _He would’ve gotten a kick out of that._

Maybe you could, if it was still raining tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

You dozed off to the peaceful lullaby of the rainfall, smiling softly and thinking of tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading my work! I'd appreciate any comments or feedback you are willing to give.
> 
> If you enjoyed this story, feel free to check out my Tumblr (@cozy-the-overlord)!


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